Читать книгу The Shark Whisperer - Ellen Prager - Страница 8

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BEHIND THE JUNGLE WALL

TWO WEEKS AFTER TRISTAN’S FALL INTO THE shark pool, he was headed for summer camp at the Florida Keys Sea Park. Ever since the incident—as his mother liked to call it—Tristan had become obsessed with all things shark. According to Susana, his sixteen-year-old sister, it was not an obsession at all. Rather, it was a clear case of possession by sharks. To Susana, the ocean was a dark, malevolent abyss. It contained only creatures that could eat, kill, or at least, seriously maim you. She was now convinced that sharks could also take over people’s minds, or at least her klutzy brother’s.

Tristan drove his parents crazy with questions. How many sharks are there? Where do they live? Do all fish think and see alike? Can sharks tell what we are thinking? Tristan’s computer became shark central. He Googled, Binged, and Yahooed sharks, shark life, shark types, shark history, shark food, and anything else shark-related. His mother took him to the local library to find books on sharks and the ocean. They even went back to the aquarium to learn more. Tristan was not allowed anywhere near the shark pool and several staff followed them for their entire visit, like security guards watching a convicted jewel thief at Tiffany’s. But nothing seemed to quench Tristan’s new thirst for knowledge about sharks. The opportunity to go to an ocean and marine life-themed summer camp seemed heaven-sent.

Tristan’s parents packed a duffle bag and backpack for their son, wrangled their uncooperative daughter into the car, and headed to the Florida Keys. They drove south through the vast swamps of the Everglades, making a game of counting alligators in the canals next to the highway. They passed forests of green, bushy mangroves that had long, crooked, and orangey roots hanging down into the water. Tristan thought they looked like gigantic drinking straws. There were wide shallow bays the color of milky pea soup. Tristan and his family looked for herons, egrets, and the truly peculiar, but beautiful roseate spoon-bill—an astonishingly pink bird with pink feathers, pink legs, and a long gray spatula for a bill. Sometimes the road was just a narrow strip of land with the ocean to the east and Florida Bay to the west.

They reached Cranky Key in the late afternoon, after some six hours of driving. The island was about four miles long and three miles wide. The only thing on it was the Florida Keys Sea Park. At the entrance, Tristan’s parents stood wide-eyed and openmouthed. Susana even shut off her iPod.

Tristan stared ahead. “Awesome.”

The summer camp was part of the Florida Keys Sea Park—a water park, botanical garden, and aquarium all in one. At the entrance there was a beautiful archway built of white stucco, eco-friendly forest-green bamboo, and dark hardwood beams. It was heavily draped with the rich purple and pink flowers of bougainvillea plants. The blooms hung down like colorful garlands at Christmastime. In front of the arch was a fountain. At its center were three jumping dolphins carved out of shiny green stone. Every few minutes, water shot from the dolphins’ blowholes. Looking through the archway into the park, Tristan’s family could see winding streams, shallow blue pools, and trails amid lush tropical gardens. Several people were climbing up the zigzag stairs of a tower to jump onto a curving waterslide or ride a zip line across the park.

Then Tristan heard the screaming. It brought back some recent and not-so-fond memories. But this time the parents and children were yelling with joy and laughter, not shark-induced terror. At the park office, the Hunt family was given Tristan’s welcome packet and directed to a walkway leading to the summer camp bungalows.

Tristan’s mother read from an information sheet as they walked, “Welcome to Sea Camp. You’re in the Seasquirts bungalow. After unpacking there’s a camp briefing at the dining hall, the Conch Café. Then . . .”

Susana leaned over to Tristan. “You’re a Seasquirt. Isn’t that cute?”

“Excellent,” Tristan replied. So entranced by his surroundings, he was completely unfazed by his sister’s typical snarky remark.

To their right flowed a wide, meandering, and crystal clear stream with people floating by on inner tubes. To their left was a small waterfall and pool surrounded by hibiscus plants sporting giant red flowers. The pool was connected to another of the park’s winding streams. As they watched, two young girls drifted by, snorkeling in the clear water.

“I touched it!” one of the girls yelled gleefully, pointing to a small velvety golden ray swimming by, its fins gracefully waving up and down. She popped up under the waterfall, waving happily to Tristan and his family, but was soon distracted by a school of bright yellow fish.

“Hope I get to go in there,” Tristan said.

“Yuck, who’d want to swim in there, probably full of germs, not to mention things that bite and sting,” Susana said.

“You’re just jealous,” Tristan responded.

“You are nuts—certifiable.”

“Okay, kids. I’m sure it’s safe,” their mother said hesitantly, looking to her husband for reassurance. Ever since the shark pool incident she’d kept a close eye on her son. Too close for Tristan, just the other day he asked if she was going to put him on a leash or implant one of those pet-tracking devices under his skin. Scarily, his mother seemed to like that last idea.

A little further down the path they came to a wooden signpost with seven colorful arrows pointing in different directions. The top three arrows showed the way to the Wave Pool, Dolphin Lagoon, and Shark Alley. The bottom four arrows were labeled Bungalow Shore, Poseidon Theater, Rehab Center, and Conch Café. They headed in the direction of Bungalow Shore. Tristan stared wistfully down the path to Shark Alley.

The walkway brought the Hunt family to a high green wall, where a teenager stood holding a clipboard. She had sun-streaked blond hair pulled back in a high ponytail and seemed about the same age as Tristan’s sister. She looked extremely fit and was wearing an aqua blue tank top with a matching pair of shorts, both of which had the shark and wave logo on them.

“Hello. I’m Jade. Welcome to camp,” she said perkily, her ponytail bouncing as she spoke.

“Hello young lady. This is our son, Tristan,” his mother replied, patting him on the head and pushing his hair back from his face. “He’s a new camper.”

Tristan shrank at least several inches from embarrassment.

“Yes, I see,” Jade bubbled, looking down at her clipboard. “You must be Tristan Hunt.”

“Yup,” Tristan muttered, inching away from his mother’s reach.

“Okay then. The bungalows for campers are just a short way past the wall. We’ll get you all set up in your room.”

“Great, thank you,” Tristan’s mother said. “We’ll just go and help him unpack.”

“Oh, no need. I can help Tristan get settled in. You must have a long drive home.”

“Oh no trouble. We’d like to do it. You know, first time at the camp and all.”

“It’s not a problem, really. We help new campers all the time. He’ll be just fine,” Jade assured her, smiling sweetly.

“Ah mom, I think I can handle this,” Tristan said, giving his father a pleading look.

“Alyssa, looks like he’s in good hands,” his father said while staring at his cell phone. “We have a long drive back, even if we only go halfway tonight. And besides, we need to find someplace where I can get a cell signal. I’m expecting an important call from the office.”

Jade took Tristan’s duffle bag from his father. Tristan hugged his mother, who looked like someone was about to hit her with a bat or, at the very least, take away the air she was breathing.

“Seriously, be careful and call us anytime. Call, text, or e-mail every day if you want,” his mother urged.

With her earbuds back in and her head bobbing to some unheard beat, Susana piped in, “Oh mom, he’ll be fine, unless of course he breaks a few bones or something.”

“SUSANA! How can you even say that?”

“Just kidding mom. Jeez, can’t you take a joke?”

Tristan grabbed his backpack and turned to go with Jade. As happened all too often, his feet and long legs got tangled while turning. Tristan spilled awkwardly to the ground.

Jumping up as fast as was humanly possible, he blurted out, “I’m fine, no problem. I’m fine.”

Susana shook her head. Tristan once again saw the look of disappointment in his father’s eyes.

“Son, do try to be careful. And stay in touch, otherwise I’ll have to tie your mother up to prevent her from driving back down here.”

“Cell service really isn’t so great here,” Jade merrily interjected. “But we have a landline he can use once in a while.”

“I’ll be fine and I’ll try to call or e-mail, really.”

Tristan’s father had to literally pull his mother away, just about dragging her back to the car. Tristan was sure there’d be scuff marks from her shoes as his father hauled her away.

“Bye. Be good,” his mother called out, teary-eyed.

Now just the two of them, Tristan stared at Jade more closely. He tried to hide it by leaning forward and letting several nearly nose-length strands of hair fall over his face. Even so, he suddenly felt flush like he’d gotten an instant sunburn. She was one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen and she moved with an athletic grace he could only dream of.

“Don’t worry, parents are always like that the first time,” Jade said with a knowing and somewhat comforting smile.

“Uh-huh,” was about all Tristan could eek out.

“Okay. First thing you need to know is how to get through the jungle wall.”

“The jungle wall?” Tristan asked.

“It’s meant to keep the regular folks out and let us in.”

“Regular folks?”

“You know, the park visitors—all those screaming kids and their parents. Don’t get me wrong. They’re okay and all. Help keep us going and doing what we do. But we don’t want ’em snooping around and bugging us all the time.”

“Uh, okay,” Tristan said, wondering what in the world she was talking about. It was an ocean and marine life-themed summer camp. There’d probably be silly arts and crafts, running games he’d be worse than horrible at, hopefully some snorkeling, and greasy cardboard-tasting food that slid off the plate.

Tristan moved closer to the tall green barrier ahead. He quickly realized what she meant by jungle wall; it was actually a dense thicket of intertwined plants. There were vines as thick as the rope Tristan had attempted to climb in gym class and some had seriously nasty thorns. They were twisted, curled and snaked around massive tree trunks that resembled long, smooth elephant legs. Tristan thought they’d need a chainsaw to get through or even better, a bulldozer.

“The trick is you just need to know where to step. If it recognizes you, the wall will let you through.”

Tristan looked at the girl like she had vines coming out of her head. “How could the wall, I mean the jungle, know me?”

Jade ignored his question, pointing to a checkerboard of large flat rocks and grass that began where the walkway ended. It extended to the sides of the wall and disappeared beneath it. “These rocks are the key to getting through. Each time you step on the right one, the wall will open up, showing you the way through.”

Tristan nodded his head like he understood what she was saying, but he still had no clue what she was talking about. Maybe her ponytail was pulled too tight.

“Okay. The first rock is the sea turtle,” Jade said, pointing to an oddly-shaped rock to their left. “Now watch what happens when I step on it.”

Jade hopped onto a rock that reminded him of the shape of a sea turtle—if he squinted and cocked his head to the left.

She stood looking at the wall of interlocking plants in front of her, “Seems a little slow today.”

Tristan stared at the rock Jade stood on and at the green plant wall. The girl’s ponytail was definitely too tight, or maybe she’d spent too much time underwater and the seawater had affected her brain.

Then, right in front of Tristan’s eyes, the jungle wall came alive. Its vines started to slowly wriggle and squirm. Like thick green snakes, they began to slither away, unfurling their grasp around each other and the massive tree trunks. Soon there was a hole in the wall. It was a shadowy entrance into the jungle wall’s interior.

“How’d you do that? A trick switch or something?” Tristan asked.

Jade stepped off the sea turtle rock onto the path and the vines moved again, this time stretching forward and weaving around to reform the impenetrable jungle wall. The entryway had disappeared.

“Okay, now you try,” Jade instructed. “Just step on the sea turtle rock and give it a moment.”

“If you say so,” Tristan said, stepping onto the rock.

And just like before, the snake-like vines slowly slithered away, opening the way into the wall.

It was both creepy and cool at the same time. Tristan wondered how it worked. Maybe there was a camera somewhere with some new high-tech image recognition software and they were robotic vines.

Jade hopped to the rock Tristan stood on then onto another one about a foot deeper into the jungle wall. “C’mon, let’s go through. Just follow me and step on the rocks I step on. This one’s the fish. Next is the whale.”

Tristan followed behind Jade. He leapt from one sea creature rock to the next. She moved quickly and smoothly over the stones, while he had to steady himself between each long step. Inside the wall, the light was dim with a strange greenish glow to it. And as Tristan stepped off each rock, the opening into the dense jungle vanished behind him.

“Now you’re going to have to remember which rocks to step on. One time a new camper forgot. Got stuck in here for hours before anyone found him,” Jade warned in an oddly happy way. “Just look for the sea creature rocks and don’t step on the grass or the wrong rocks.”

“What happens if you do?” Tristan asked.

“You do not want to know.”

“Great . . .” he replied. “I feel so much better now.”

“We’re almost there,” Jade went on. “Really it’s only seven rocks in all, just seems like more. First time I did it, I kinda freaked out too. Just aim for this last rock. It’s jagged on one side, forked on the other. We call it the Jaws rock. When you see it, you’re through.”

Tristan stepped onto the shark-shaped stone and the dark jungle gave way to bright sunlight. Looking back, he caught the last wriggling of the vines as the wall transformed back into a thorny green barrier.

Jade glanced down at the information sheet on her clipboard. “You’re in the first bungalow of course, Seasquirts, room number two.”

Tristan had been about to ask how the jungle wall worked, but staring at the view ahead, he completely forgot what he was about to say. It was as if he had on-the-spot amnesia. Tristan just stood there speechless and stared ahead. A wide turquoise lagoon stretched out for as far as he could see. Its surface sparkled like a field of diamonds with reflections from the afternoon sun. In the distance were patches of deep, deep blue and a line of white, where small waves were breaking. A beach of sugary sand surrounded the lagoon and palm trees laden with coconuts hung out over the water.

Just then, about a hundred feet off the beach, two dark triangular fins broke the water’s surface. Moments later they submerged, disappearing from view.

“Are those . . . are they sharks?” Tristan asked eagerly.

“No, just a couple of dolphins.”

As if to confirm this, one of the large gray dolphins jumped high out of the water, twirled, and landed on its back. The splash was fantastically high and wide, as if a giant had done a cannonball off the high dive.

“C’mon. Let’s get you settled. There’s a lot more to see.”

They walked along the shore on a path of flat white rocks imprinted with shells and corals. As far as Tristan could tell, there were no sea creature shapes this time or moving vines. They were just cool-looking rocks, almost like fossils. Soon they came to a row of five small bungalows along the shore. Each bungalow was on pilings raised up about ten feet off the rocks and sand below.

Jade walked to the first bungalow, gracefully climbing the stairs to the doorway. “Here you go.”

Tristan followed, taking each step with much greater care. A wooden Seasquirts sign hung over the entrance. Like the other buildings in the park, the bungalow was constructed of white stucco, dark wood beams, and bamboo.

“This way,” Jade called from inside.

Tristan swung open a door made of thick bamboo poles. He stepped into a large, airy room with a high, beamed ceiling. Several cushy couches and comfy-looking chairs were scattered about and there was a rectangular dark wooden table with matching benches. But what really took his breath away—again—was the view. The entire back wall of the bungalow had floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the turquoise lagoon. It wasn’t the rundown log cabin or tent he’d expected. This was definitely unlike any summer camp he’d ever heard of. Tristan heard girls’ voices coming from an adjoining room to the right. He headed that way.

“In here,” Jade shouted from the opposite direction.

Tristan followed her voice to a small bedroom. Inside, there were two sets of bunk beds, one against each wall. Jade stood next to one of the bunks where a dark-haired boy about Tristan’s age sat cross-legged on the lower bed reading from an iPad.

“Tristan, this is Hugh. He got here earlier.”

They nodded at one another saying, “Hi.”

“Well, that’s it for me. Be at the Conch Café in an hour. It’s on your maps,” Jade instructed happily. “And don’t be late. The director really hates it when we’re late. Okay, see ya.”

Tristan watched Jade jog out the room, her ponytail bouncing the entire time.

“Are the people here all like her? So, uh perky?” Tristan asked.

“I certainly hope not,” Hugh said from the shadows of the lower bunk.

Tristan looked at the pile of clothes on the other lower bed then warily eyed the top bunks. He was about as good at climbing as he was at walking without tripping, stumbling or running into something.

“You’ll have to take one of the top beds,” Hugh told him. “You can take the one over me, if you want. Ryder’s the guy in the other lower bunk. Well, let’s just say it might be easier climbing over me than him.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Tristan threw his backpack onto the top bunk.

Hugh poked his head out, pointing to a tan towel embroidered with “Seasquirts” hanging off the end of the top bunk. “That’s yours and there’s more in the closet in the bathroom. There’s also a drawer under the bunk for your stuff and some shelves you can use.”

“Where’s the other guy, what’s-his-name?”

“Ryder, he went to catch up with some of the older kids he says he already knows. I think he said they’re in the Squids bungalow. Better than being a Seasquirt, that’s for sure.”

Tristan nodded. “Yeah, who came up with that name?”

“Guess it’s supposed to make us work hard to move up to the Snapper bungalow or something.”

Tristan spent the next ten minutes or so unpacking his things. Hugh sat quietly reading, saying little. When there was just a small hill of clothing left on his bed, Tristan took the map out of his welcome packet. It showed a detailed layout of the Sea Park. “So where’s this Conch Café we’re supposed to go to?”

“I tried looking it up using my map app, but the satellite link doesn’t seem to work here. Must be in a dead zone or something,” Hugh replied. “We’ll have to go the old-fashioned way. A paper map—how low-tech.”

Hugh got up to get his copy of the map out of a backpack on the floor nearby. Whereas Tristan was long and lean, Hugh was short and a bit pudgy. His dark hair was neatly combed, cut to just above his ears. He wore a navy blue IZOD shirt and knee-length, well-pressed khaki shorts with a matching canvas belt.

Tristan wondered if they were supposed to dress up for the first day of camp. He had on his black board shorts and a T-shirt his mother bought him during their last visit to the aquarium. It was gray with the black silhouette of a shark wrapping around from the front to the back where it said “A Shark Ate My Homework.”

“Looks like this Conch Café is on the other side of the park, between the wave pool and theater,” Tristan noted.

“Yes, that appears to be correct,” Hugh confirmed, looking at the map.

“Does that mean we have to go through that wall thing again?”

“Yeah, but I’ve done it a couple times. It’s not too bad.”

Tristan wasn’t so sure.